Fake Perfection
by The-Fourth-Queen
Summary: Adrien Agreste gives perfection. Chat Noir reveals expression. He didn't expect it to hurt, so, much. All he wants to do is cry it out- and even in his dreams, he tries… One-Shot


_A million thanks to my little sister for hating how much pain I put Adrien through..._

* * *

Adrien needed to open his eyes- this dream wasn't going so well, it had descended into the nightmare side, but yet, the boy couldn't manage the will to tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight. A sight he was used to seeing, but never in this light. Never in this situation.

Adrien blinked slowly, and the mirror blinked back. It was his 'perfect' reflection. Same golden hair, and striking eyes. The pleasing face, and wonderful smile. But Adrien, he knew what no one else knew- the reflection was a lie.

Adrien tried, oh he did try, to turn away, but it couldn't work. Like the thousands of fans he had captured with his smile, he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away. But this smile was a fake one. One that Adrien alone knew.

The model lifted his hands to gingerly touch the throbbing pain on his lips, and though the mirror only showed his hand caressing his face, Adrien brought away blood from his mouth. It stung with his contact, and would not stop running down his face like a terrible mimic of drool, but the mirror showed nothing at all- it never would.

Adrien opened his mouth again, and his reflection tried to laugh- but Adrien couldn't take that fake grin. That fake, stupid, robotic, meaningless, idiotic, terrible, horrible, stupid, fake-fake-fake-smile.

 _Why can't people see that it's fake?_

Adrien brought both hands up to wipe at his eyes, and his mirror calmly flicked away small tears. But the reflection's eyes weren't as swollen as Adrien knew they should be. His face wasn't pink with the drama, his nose wasn't runny and red, and he certainly wasn't hunched over and gasping for breath.

But when Adrien braced the mirror, head spinning and legs trembling, he closed his eyes. Those wicked green eyes that no one learned to read as yet- green eyes that could render even the most stoic girls into admiring them. Those eyes were a gift to his mother, but a curse to him.

 _A boy shouldn't be beautiful_.

But yet, he was.

 _Perfect_.

That was what they called him.

Adrien grit his teeth, and he could taste the foul tinge of the bitterness on his lips. Like iron, and he had to spit it out. There was too much, and when it mingled with the dripping snot from his nose- it created the worse of flavors. But no amount of spitting could take away the lingering bitterness.

Adrien cracked open his eyes, and his eyes met his own in that mirror. But it wasn't his mirror. His image yes, but not _his_ image.

Adrien's eyes narrowed at that figure. The reflection was indeed hunched over like the object, and it did look sad. But Adrien knew that it was a lie. The face the mirror showed was still a beautiful one.

Adrien saw perfect lips, trembling just right to depict misery but never enough to form a deep frown. Tears- crystal beauties- flowed down the side of his cheeks- one by one in perfect harmony- only to meet at the bottom of his cheeks and fall off when joined. And his face, the faintest of pink to depict his emotions, but his eyes were still green and shining.

 _Fake_.

Adrien did the one thing so many people didn't want to. He turned away.

The mirror did its disloyal faithful job, and showed his back. But Adrien in the mirror was clothed in a perfect white jacket, the collars neat near his neck; the mirror wouldn't show the torn clothes that Adrien knew should have been reflected.

Adrien stood straight, but his shaking limbs wouldn't allow him to stay up for long. So the boy tried, but gravity worked even in his dreams- and his knees collided with the ground. And the impact of cold metal struck him into consciousness.

Adrien Agreste, teenage supermodel, awoke at the dawn. The sun peeped into his room, and lit up his life in such a way that he felt guilty about not smiling. Adrien lifted his hands, and looked at them. The nails were coated in clear, and it barely glinted with the sun's arrival.

The boy ignored the lump in his throat, especially the prickling in his eyes. It would go away, the bad feelings could be suppressed, and thus always hidden.

Adrien put his hands on his lap, and allowed his eyes to travel to the pillow next to him. It was squashed- a result of his rolling. But a glint of something peeked from under it. The boy, not changing his stoic face, reached for the mirror he knew would lie there.

So what if he slept with that mirror? It was an old habit ingrained into his system- always look presentable, even upon waking up.

So when Adrien Agreste peered into the mirror, he knew what to expect.

Adrien saw perfect lips, trembling just right to depict misery but never enough to form a deep frown. Tears- crystal beauties- flowed down the side of his cheeks- one by one in perfect harmony- only to meet at the bottom of his cheeks and fall off when joined. And his face, the faintest of pink to depict his emotions, but his eyes were still green and shining.

 _Fake?_

 _No._

 _Perfect…_

Adrien sighed deeply, and put the mirror back. How could he expect better? How could he expect anything but perfection from Adrien Agreste?

Adrien turned to his left, but his kwami was not there. On mornings like these, he was grateful that Plagg wasn't too talkative. Plagg may be annoying at times, but he could give Adrien his needed space.

Adrien pulled his blankets from his legs, and the ladybug pajamas shone proudly. The mere thought of his lady brought a smile onto his face, one that reached his eyes and would make crinkles around his eyes. But in a second, it was gone, replaced by the trained fake he must wear.

Adrien jumped when he saw Plagg. The kwami was heading for him with a firm frown- a mission on his mind. And Adrien recognized it.

The boy lifted his ring, and whispered the words that had become his savior, "Claws out…"

The magic was more than just literal transformation. Adrien could feel the shift from perfection, to expression. His hair struck out in that rebellious way, and the tail joined to add for his benefit. That little bell his adored would give the faintest jingle when he moved- his own personal lullaby in the lonely nights. Adrien brought up his hands to aid his mask and ears, and Chat Noir was created.

Chat still sat on the bed, but something was different. That damn that only Adrien Agreste would keep, it gave away to miraculous magic. Chat gasped shakily, and brought his knees closer to his chest so he could give himself the hugs he craved. And the cruel tears escaped without permission.

A small part of him wanted to reach for the mirror. Just to see how imperfect he would look. But this time, he knew what he would see. The mirror wouldn't lie this time. His reflection's eyes would be as swollen as Adrien knew they should be. His face would be pink with the drama, his nose runny and red, and he would be hunched over and gasping for breath.

That morning, didn't start out so well. And as the sun proudly spewed light, the rays fell upon a dark sunshine child. But he wasn't perfect that morning. He was a miserable mess of pent up feelings. But at least, the mirror didn't lie to him. At least, that morning, he wasn't fake…


End file.
